


sparks fly (like the fourth of july)

by fantasy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, cute little bits of ziam in the side, louisandharry, mainly lourry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 11:27:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantasy/pseuds/fantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There are times Louis blesses Zayn and and all of his weird artsy hipster-ish glory. There are times he feels like punching him in the dick. Hard. And as he's staring at the tall, green eyed fucking Adonis of a person who's currently in the hallway outside their apartment, he can't help but feel like this is both of those times.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>or</p><p>au where louis meets harry and he's pretty sure ringing bells too many times is against the law</p>
            </blockquote>





	sparks fly (like the fourth of july)

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know where this came from but it did.  
> I regret (almost) nothing.  
> -  
> Title from 'The Other Side' by Jason Derulo  
> I own no one and nothing. This is a fragment of my imagination and purely fictional etc etc etc

The doorbell is ringing and Louis' just woken up from his fiftieth nap of the day, all bleary-eyed, half-asleep and scruffy, his hair messed up. And he's not happy. He's grumpy and sleepy and annoyed because who ever's at the door (it's Zayn's friends, most probably, he'd said something about going to pub with them, Louis wasn't really listening) is ringing the bell continuously.

It's around 5 in the evening and he's stomping out of his room and into Zayn's to try his best not to scream at him and very nicely ask him to answer the fucking door.

"Answer the fucking door!" he screams not very nicely. Zayn doesn't even look away from the mirror where he's fixing his hair.

The doorbell hasn't stop ringing yet and Louis would consider that a reason for why Zayn's acting like no one's spoken; maybe he didn't hear him because his god damn hipster friends don't know how to fucking stop ringing the fucking bell. But that would only be if Louis wasn't practically yelling. So yeah. Zayn can definitely fucking hear him, he's just ignoring him. Like always. Ignoring Louis might just be Zayn's greatest talents and Louis resents him for that.

"Z-a-a-a-yn," Louis drags out the a. "I'm fucking tired, go answer the door and tell your fucking clique that they can't ring the bell a million fucking times. It's against the law or summat."

Zayn is still fixing his hair and the doorbell is still ringing. Louis throws his hands in the air, frustrated, and because he's a fucking wonderful friend, (who, admittedly, just wants to go back to sleep) he barges out of the room to answer the door.

"Their names are Liam and Harry," Zayn calls after him as he reaches the living room. He knows Louis too well to think he wouldn't get the door.

Prick. Louis thinks he might like Niall more.

Louis clambers over the mess of beanbags, empty cans of beer and leftover pizza boxes from the movie nights with Niall in the living room and ultimately reaches the front door. Success.

Standing in front of door to his and Zayn's (extremely) small and untidy flat, he deliberates how to explain Zayn's friends, who he's sure will be fucking hipsters, that ringing door bells in the United fucking Kingdom is against the fucking law (or at least, Louis thinks it is and if it's not, he really needs to have a serious talk with the Queen and the prime minister or whoever the fuck makes the laws).

He gives up soon though, mostly because they haven't still stopped ringing the bell and partly because Louis isn't really the greatest speech maker in the world, and he opens the door.

"Now listen here," he begins as he pulls the door. "You can't just go round ringing bells a trillion times a minute, that's against the-"

And that's when he sees who's at the door. It's safe to say that Louis' jaw all but drops open. It's just- they're hot.

There are times Louis blesses Zayn and and all of his weird artsy hipster-ish glory. There are times he feels like punching him in the dick. Hard. And as he's staring at the tall, green eyed fucking Adonis of a person who's currently in the hallway outside his apartment, he can't help but feel like this is both of those times.

He doesn't quite know how to react because Zayn never even mentioned that his "friends" were fucking hot, especially the green-eyed one who, to be pretty damn honest, is making Louis' chest go KA-THUMP KA-THUMP. Now, Louis is almost sure he might like Niall more than Zayn.

The other one's got like David Beckham hair (that's really fucking working for him) and this macho figure thing which Louis usually would find attractive, with the whole scruff of beard and fucking rugby player look but.

Right now all he can see is the other guy is pretty fucking beautiful. And not like the girly beautiful which Louis is so not into but the breathtaking kind, like he's got these eyes that are either green or blue or both, Louis can't decide and these fucking lips- they, oh my god- they're so pink and so plump it's obscene and Louis is so sure they should be like against the law or something and he's got this hair, that's just- it's so big and curly and soft and fuck he's like tall and lean with legs that- fuck- they go on for fucking forever and fuck- if he isn't like a fucking Greek god or something- 

Louis is staring. And green-blue-eyes guy just spoke. And Louis didn't even notice. Shit.

He shakes his head, trying to rid his mind of all the obscene and almost pedophilic thoughts.

"Sorry what?" Louis asks him.

"Law?" he repeats, his eyes twinkling. "It's against the law?"

"Er," Louis' jaw is still a bit slack, mind still reeling.

Louis clears his throat.

"Yeah- so- um," he says, just to make sure. "Liam and Harry?"

They nod and the David Beckham hair one holds out his hand.

"Liam," he says, as he shakes Louis' hand, like a proper gentlemen.

"I'm Lou- oof," Zayn pushes him out of the way to get to the front door. Louis most definitely likes Niall more.

"Harry, Liam, come in" Zayn says cordially, letting them through the door and into the living room, like he didn't just shove Louis out of the way with, what Louis figures, is all of his body strength, considering how skinny Zayn is.

"Zayn," Louis complains, following them in to the room. "Ow."

Zayn ignores him but Louis can feel Harry's eyes on him. 

"Hello, Zayn," Liam says as he sits on one of their lumpy sofas, turning to Zayn, smiling so wide Louis considers how many muscles he'd sprain if he tried to smile like that.

And Zayn is blushing. Blushing. Zayn has never blushed and he's doing it now, at Liam saying hello?  What even.

Massaging his shoulder, Louis settles down on the other sofa, watching Zayn and Liam with narrowed eyes. There's something definitely going on. Something Zayn hasn't told him. Huh, so much for bro-code.

"You alright?" Harry (Louis remembers his name, whoopy-fuckin-doo) asks him and Louis can feel his cheeks heating up, suddenly very conscious of his bed-head look, sweatpants, unkempt hair and all. He really should not be around fit people. That's a massive no-no.

"Yeah," he says, waving a hand dismissively. "It's not like Zayn here's quite strong." He gets a laugh from Harry, like a nice throaty laugh that makes Louis smile but it's like Zayn hasn't even heard him.

He watches him talk to Liam from the corner of his eye. He hasn't even bothered to turn or glare or even roll his eyes. Shit. Liam's taken his best friend away. Damn it. Now all he has is Niall. Not that Niall's like bad or anything, but as much as you can rely on Niall for a beer and a fun night out, heart-to-hearts about dicks and sucking guys off weren't things you could really talk to him about.

But Harry's still ( _still_ , Louis feels like he's going to throw up or jump with joy or somersault over the moon or all three) looking at him from where he's sitting (quite close to him) on the same sofa so.

"'m Louis Tomlinson," he says, smiling brightly.

"Harry Styles," Harry replies, almost drawling cause his voice is so fucking slow but like throaty and deep and fuck- Louis just wants to know how he sounds after he's sucked someone (hopefully yours truly) off or in the morning, when it's raspy and- oh fuck, what is wrong with him today- Louis might just be hard. 

He tries desperately to push Harry and his fucking voice out his mind, taking another attempt at conversation. 

"So," he clears his throat. "You and Zayn, you're friends?"

"Yeah I- I don't know," Harry says, shrugging. "Like, Liam's my best mate and he introduced me to Zayn just the other day. But we've never like proper hung out before so?" He ends it like a question and Louis is (very creepily) finding that endearing. What the hell? 

"Ah," Louis says, nodding like Harry's just narrated an extremely interesting thing. 

They're silent for a bit, listening to Zayn and Liam talk about, Louis gathers, the weather (what?), superman underwear (right then), the Bermuda Triangle (what what?) and teletubbies (what what what?) all in one go. 

 "You should come today," Harry says suddenly.

"Huh?" Louis asks, because that's all he can manage as he tries to figure out whether Zayn and Liam being so weird is cute or plain creepy.

"To the pub," Harry clarifies. "We're going, the three of us. You should come." He repeats.

"Er," Louis looks down at his clothes, that he's almost positive are torn from somewhere and reek of the nachos he has a habit of eating in bed.

"I'll have to change," he says carefully.

Harry shrugs.

"If you must," he replies.

"Though," he leans in, grinning at him. "If you ask me, you're pulling this off, easy."

Louis scoffs at him because god, that is so not true, but his stomach his fluttering and he can't help but smile.

Harry beams back at him, a dimple in his cheek. A dimple. It's like the gods've mutually decided to torture Louis. Fuck.

"Oi Liam," Harry says, turning. "Louis' coming with us, yeah?"

Liam nods.

"Course," he says, smiling. He waves at him.

"Hello, Louis."

Zayn is smiling at Liam. Like a fond smile that Louis is almost sure he's never seen on Zayn's face and he wants to puke or go AW AW or both. And he's also almost sure he and Liam've already been introduced but he waves back anyway.

"Hey Liam."

"So," Louis says, standing up, trying to avoid looking at Harry and his green eyes and soft hair and long, lean and fit as fuck body. "I'll just- I'm going to change- er- bye."

He half jogs to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Louis takes a deep breath. Okay. That just happened. He just met a really fit and really cute guy who made Louis want to fuck him and cuddle him and making him hard and giving him fluttery feelings in his stomach, all in the space of ten minutes. Right. Is this his life now?

Taking another long breath, he picks up a loose-ish t-shirt of the carpet, that he's almost sure he got washed a week or two ago so that's good, and his tightest pair of skinnies, which show off his bum quite nicely. He does really like Harry and he does want to make a good impression so yes, he'll go with the pair of trousers that make his bum look magnificent, thank you very much. Also, if that doesn't work out, at least he'll get laid. Right? 

Swiping some of Zayn's gel, he pushes his hair up in a quiff and stands in front of the mirror, surveying himself. He's not half-bad looking, he knows that, but he's not exactly Hugh Grant (whoever wouldn't bang him is an alien, in Louis' opinion) or someone equally dashing. Like Paul Wesley (who he'd bang without question). But still his skinnies did wonders for him. Fucking wonders.

Giving himself one last once-over, Louis left his room and went to the short hallway that led to the front door, where Zayn, Liam and Harry stood waiting.

"Shall we?" he asks them, feeling immense satisfaction as he sees Harry's mouth slacken, watching Louis parade past them and out of the apartment. And if Louis swung his hips just a little, it's entirely justified. And if Zayn muffles a laugh, it's only cause he's a shit best friend who knows exactly why Louis is swinging his hips and finds it very funny. But you know, you can't win 'em all and all that.

Zayn winks at him, smirking, as they reach the end of flights of stairs and Louis rolls his eyes at him.

"Love-nest with Liam, huh?" he mutters to Zayn, watching his cheeks turn pink. And when Zayn punches him in the shoulder, Louis thinks it was worth it.

"You're one to talk," Zayn says quietly. "All flirty and giggly with Harry." It's Louis turn to blush, something in his stomach swooping.

"Shut up," he tells him.

Zayn laughs, following Liam and Harry to the parking lot. who, Louis notices, are also in deep conversation. The conversation consisting of Liam laughing and speaking softly to Harry who was turning a deep shade of red and shaking his head.

"Staring, Haz," Louis hears Liam say delightedly, as they stroll past in the parking lot. "You were full on staring at him."

Zayn nudges him, grinning, and Louis is no Sherlock, but he's almost positive they're talking about him and the thought makes him smile super wide.

Fifteen minutes later or so, they’re finally in Liam’s car and on their way, Zayn sitting in the front passenger seat and telling Liam how and where to drive (though Liam seems quite capable in Louis' opinion) and Liam isn't even getting pissed or anything, he's just smiling and acting as if Zayn isn't nagging him at all. Which is weird. Very weird. And Harry's sitting next to him in the back seat. They haven't talked yet and don't, not till Harry gives a small cough and goes:

"You-" he coughs again. "Er- you look nice."  He tells Louis.

"I-" Louis starts, feeling his stomach practically erupt into butterflies. "Thank you, you too." He says giving Harry a small smile.

Harry smiles back, his dimple reappearing.

And they make the worst small talk ever. Like talking about the weather small talk. They actually do talk about the weather and how it's like London decides not to bring out the sun 90% of the days just cause it feels like it and it's pretty damn annoying how it's weather is bipolar, like sunny one second and rainy the next.

Until Louis brings up football out of nowhere and they start talking about favourite sports and players and clubs and then video games and then food and music and Louis learns Harry's a proper hipster, like a fan of unsigned bands and other hipster shit and Harry promises to make Louis a mix of his favourites and convert Louis. As much as he doubts Harry can do that, Louis loves his enthusiastic way of talking and his hand waving and his unfaltering smile.

And they're just talking about everything. And even when they reach the pub and get out of the car, their conversation doesn't stop.

As they walk into the pub, Louis is telling Harry about the time his sisters dressed Stan, his mate from home, as a princess and made Louis the prince and Harry starts a story about when he and his mates got drunk back in Cheshire and spray painted his mum's car blue.

And they don't stop telling stories of drunk nights and from back home and their families and their mates and Louis feels like he could keep talking to Harry for hours and hours and they do, except when they stop to order a jumbo plate of spicy fries to share and a few beers.

"So, this one time," Harry says, a little breathless from laughing, after Louis tells him a story of when him and Niall tried to skateboard off a house's slanted roof at one of Josh's parties and ended up in the hospital. (They're both a little drunk, feeling giddy and giggling after the one too many beers they've had by now.)"My sister and I-"

"Haz," Liam breaks in, standing up. "Let's go."

"Yeah Lou," Zayn says.

Louis pouts.

"Why?" he says, dragging out the y. "It's s-o-o-o early, I don't want to go-o-o." 

He drags out the o's, crossing his arms. Okay so maybe he's a little more than just a little drunk.

"It's dark," Liam points out.

"Come on," Zayn pulls Louis' arm. "Let's get you home."

Louis refuses to budge, still frowning.

"You're cute," Harry laughs, pulling his cheeks.

"You're v-e-e-e-e-e-ry cute," Louis tells him giggling.

Harry smiles and him and Louis smiles back and they don't stop smiling at each other, Harry giggling as Louis pulls faces at him, while Liam and Zayn (mostly Liam because Zayn's not Hercules but apparently Liam is) drag them to the car.

They're in the car and on their way to Zayn's and his flat soon and Louis feels very exhausted, all the giddy laughter seeping out of him. He rests his head against the seat, eyes drooping.

And when they reach their building he has to all but drag himself out of the car and towards the building because Zayn's being very unhelpful, busy talking to Liam. He feels oddly happy after talking to Harry, really hoping that they meet again. And he just remembers he didn't get Harry's number when-

"Hey Lou," Harry calls, jogging towards him from the car.

Louis turns around so fast, he's surprised he hasn't sprained his neck muscle or something.

"Hey," he says smiling sleepily at him.

"I was wondering- er- you wanna-" Harry clears his throat, taking a deep breath.

"I- you wanna go for dinner tomorrow?" Harry says hurriedly.

He stares at Harry, his eyes wide, all sleepiness gone.

"Like a date?" he asks him slowly.

 "Uh," Harry looks almost hopeful. "If you want, yeah?"

Louis is fighting to resist the urge to throw his arms round Harry and kiss him. He's happy. Like really happy. He's got a date. A date with Harry Styles. Who's nice and lovely and really really really cute and very fun and who laughs at Louis' stupid jokes and makes him feel like he's super important and even though Louis' only known him for a few hours, he already likes him a little more than a lot.

"Yeah," he nods. "That'd be- yeah."

Harry’s beaming at him. Like full on beaming like just won the lottery or something and he’s just so cute, Louis wants to hug him and kiss him and god- he’s adorable. But important matters to tend to now so.

"Tomorrow, seven o'clock?" Louis asks, as Zayn walks past him and stands near the building doors waiting.

"I'll pick you up," Harry says, and Louis could swear he winks- fucking winks- at him as he saunters back to the car, in which Liam's sitting at the wheel, waiting.

Louis turns back to the building and strolls through the entrance doors with Zayn, nodding at the building guard. His mind is reeling, his stomach aching with happiness and excitement.

"So," Zayn says, turning to him. "Hot date tomorrow?" He waggles his eyebrows.

Louis shoves his shoulder.

"Shut up," he tells him as they reach the stairs.

And he's just about to take the first step up when he hears Harry call his name again.

"Louis! Hey Louis," Harry's out of the car again and walking through the doors. Louis swivels around for the second time to face him.

He thrusts a piece of paper into Louis' hand flushing slightly.

"My number," he explains. "So you can like, call or text or whatever, if- if you want I mean, not like-"

"Thanks," Louis interrupts. "Yeah, I will."

"Great," Harry smiles, relieved. "Yeah, that's- great."

"So," Louis says, rocking on the balls off his feet. "See you tomorrow?"

Harry grins.

"Yeah," he replies, turning around and walking to the car.

Louis can hear Liam honking and Harry breaks into a jog.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Louis hears him call to Liam.

"Bye, Harry," he shouts to Harry.

Harry turns as he's about to sit into the car. He waves to Louis.

"See you tomorrow, Lou!" he shouts and Louis blushes as he waves back; he's pretty sure everyone within ten-mile radius heard that.

And then they've gone, driven off into the night.

Louis puts his hand down. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, typing in Harry's number. He shoots him a quick text.

_To: Harry_

_From: You_

_Hey this is Louis :) thought I'd let you know ! x_

Moments later he gets a reply. _  
_

_To: You_

_From: Harry_

_Hiiii :) so I've got a question: Why did Hitler get hit with a baseball?  
_

A second or two passes and Louis' phone buzzes again.

_To: You_

_From: Harry_

_Because he did Nazi it coming!_

And Louis is just like: what. _  
_

_To: Harry_

_From: You_

_No. Harry, no.  
_

Because honestly, what is this guy? 

"Not a word," he warns him as they climb their way up the three flights to their apartment. "Not a single word."

Zayn hold his hands up in surrender, stifling his laugh.

"Yeah, mate," he says. "Whatever." Louis can hear his smile.

But Zayn forgets even Louis has leverage and just to remind him he says-

"Wait till Niall hears about you and Liam," he sing-songs, unlocking their apartment door. He laughs at Zayn's reddening cheeks.

"Aw," he coos at him. "Isn't that sweet?"

Zayn shoves his arm as they walk past the kitchen and into the living room.

"Prick," he mutters, throwing himself on the couch and flicking on the TV.

Louis laughs again, settling down next to him.

They watch a re-run of Breaking Bad that they've only seen half a million times and then the news for a bit until Louis yawns and then Zayn stifles a yawn and Louis yawns again and a yawning parade starts off, stopping only when Zayn stretches, pulling himself up.

"Bed," he tells Louis. "C'mon."

Louis nods, feeling awfully tired.

And as he changes back into his sweatpants and shirt and crawling into the covers, he can't help but smile at the text he'd received from Harry after he'd texted him goodnight while brushing his teeth.

_To: You  
_

_From: Harry  
_

_Why can't you hear a psychologist go to the bathroom? Cause the p is silent! Haha sleep well, Lou. Can't wait for tomorrow! .x  
_

(And he's not smiling just cause of the joke, it's also because less than twelve hours ago, he was sleepy and grumpy and hadn't met Harry and now he's awfully glad he has. And it's kind of because of Zayn. Huh.) _  
_

**Author's Note:**

> You laughed at the psychologist joke and you know it.  
> Credits to tumblr for that and the Nazi one.  
> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://entirelyinsane.tumblr.com/)  
> Cheers.  
> -E


End file.
